A Muse
by ucsbdad
Summary: I was recently in London and this popped into my head. One shot, now complete.


A Muse

By

UCSBdad

Disclaimer: I am not now, nor have I ever been, the owner of Castle. Rating: K Time: Long ago and very AU.

Richard Castle approached his desk. It was not much of a desk, just a smooth board laid across two barrels, but it had served him well. He placed a sheaf of paper precisely in the center of his desk and followed with a pot of ink and three freshly sharpened quill pens. He then sat down in a comfortable chair and let his imagination roam free. His imagination roamed freely, but no words did it find.

He moved the paper ever so slightly to his left. He thought about the rousing battle scenes in his _Tyrant of Syracuse._ He recalled the death of the evil tyrant, just as it had seemed that his nefarious schemes would bear their evil fruit. No words came to him.

He took a deep breath and thought of his bawdy comedy, _The Three Ladies of Wexford_. He smiled, recalling how audiences had laughed at the misadventures of the three supposedly virtuous young maidens, and the cheers when they were finally wed to their proper mates. And no words came.

Castle moved the paper back to the center of his desk. He recalled the sadness and the drama of _Roger of Sicily_ and the death of the pure and noble Lady Blanche. He recalled seeing even the hardened groundlings in the audience cry as Roger realized he had won a kingdom, but lost his love. Not one word came.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the owner of the theater, the Oblate Spheroid, approaching.

"How are you doing, Richard?" Roy Montgomery asked. Montgomery was known through out London as Il Moro, or the Moor, due to his dark visage.

Castle had a sudden glimmering of an idea. "I was thinking about something about a Moor. Maybe some sort of a problem of the heart."

Montgomery frowned. "Really? Will Shakespeare is packing them in over at the Globe with something called _Othello_. It's all about a Moor and his problems with his wife."

"A comedy perhaps?" Suggested Castle. "With lots of mistaken identities, bedroom shenanigans and a happy ending?"

"He strangles her at the end."

"Not an awful lot of laughs there."

"Keep working, Richard. I know you'll come up with something great. You always do."

Richard Castle resumed staring at the blank sheet of paper before him. He tried to think of what he'd seen in London recently. There was bear baiting, a brawl between apprentices, merchants fighting over the best place in the market to show their wares, a troop of soldiers had lost control of their mounts in Cheapside, causing a young man to be killed and Queen Elizabeth had gone by barge from Greenwich Palace to Hampton Court. Not one idea popped into his head.

He was about to quit for the day when someone ran into the theater and ran towards him.

"Not just someone." He thought. "But a beautiful someone." She was slender and appeared to be long legged. Her hair, although tangled, was a beautiful chestnut color and her eyes, as she came closer, were hazel. Her face, he decided, was beyond compare.

"Please, sir, will you help me? Hide me?" She said, stopping before him.

"What is the matter, miss? How can I…"

"There you are my beauty. Come to me. Don't be shy. I have a room at the Queen's Arms, just for us." A loud voice announced.

Castle saw at once what, or rather, who the girl's problem was. Lord Vaughn was easily the most depraved and corrupt man in London. His fine clothes could not disguise his widening hips and ballooning belly, nor could they conceal his bandy, bowed legs nor his sunken chest. His expensive hat could not conceal his receding hairline nor the unhealthy pallor of his face.

Castle smiled at Lord Vaughn. "Greetings, Lord Vaughn. I see young George here has caught your attention. I must say you have excellent taste, sir. And let me tell you, when George rides you, you'll know you've been well ridden. He may be a slender boy, but he's all muscle."

"What?" Cried Lord Vaughn. "That beauty cannot be a boy! It's impossible."

Castle laughed. "My Lord, certainly you know that the parts of young women in plays are always played by young boys. Why for woman to appear on stage would be….unthinkable. I assure you George is all male." Castle then squeezed the young girl's bottom and then groped her breasts.

"Please, sir." The young woman said, deepening her voice, "you'll cause my boobs to come adrift and then they'll have to be sewn back in my dress."

Castle assumed a knowing smile. "And I assure you, Lord Vaughn, no one will mention your…unusual taste in bed partners. It's quite the rage among the aristocracy, you know. Why, I could tell you some names…."

"You will tell me nothing, sir. And you will not mention this to a soul or you'll pay very dearly for it." And with that, Lord Vaughn left.

"I apologize for touching you inappropriately, but…." Castle began.

"Think nothing of it, sir. Vaughn would have been a hundred times worse. But now I must go."

Castle had no desire to see this young woman go. At least not until he'd heard her story. "Do you think that wise? Vaughn will doubtlessly still be in the area. If her sees you leaving the theater, he may grow suspicious."

"I cannot impose further on your generosity, sir." She said, but Castle felt she was weakening.

"Perhaps a bite to eat before you go?"

"Food? I suppose I could eat."

Castle led her to a table used for the feast scene in _Caesar Augustus_ , not one of Castle's plays, but a serviceable piece none the less. He brought out fresh bread, some cheese and a slice of roast beef. He added a good draught of small beer as well.

The woman ate daintily for the first few bites and then tore into her meal. Before she had finally finished, Castle had added the rest of the bread, the cheese and three slices of ham. And she finished the small beer.

She looked at him guiltily. "I fear I have taken advantage of you, kind sir."

"Nonsense. As you can see, the company has plenty of food. But how do you come to be so famished, Miss…?

"Beckett. Katherine Beckett, but everyone calls me Kate. I fear that I have been rendered homeless and an orphan, all in one night." Before she could continue, she began to cry. Castle allowed her to cry on his shoulder.

"Please tell me what happened to you?" He asked, when she stopped sobbing.

"My parents, James and Johanna, were printers and booksellers in Shoreditch. We were not wealthy, but we were happy. Then my father took a commission to print a pamphlet attacking Sir William Bracken, and we sold copies in our shop. Several of Bracken's roaring boys came by the shop. They tore up books and pamphlets and beat my father. They told him to destroy the pamphlets and not print any more. My father refused and two nights ago, our shop and home were burned to the ground. I alone escaped."

Castle could well believe that Sir William Bracken would do such a thing. Although a member of the House of Commons and a rather unimportant member at that, he was rumored to be involved in various villainous schemes that made money. Although disliked by the aristocracy, he was a rising star in London.

"Don't you have family elsewhere that could take care of you?"

She shook her head. "None. Both of my parents were the only children to survive childhood and I have no brothers or sisters. I have no one."

"Well, you now have Richard Castle to look after you. Bracken is an evil bully and he's an enemy of all of the theaters in London. He calls them cesspools of vice and depravity. He wants to close them all."

Beckett looked at him in shock. "You're Richard Castle? The famous playwright? Why, my father published every one of your plays and I read them all, over and over again."

"Have you ever seen one of my plays here at the Oblate Spheroid?"

She shook her head sadly. "No. We had no money to afford seats and my father felt that standing in the yard with the groundlings was unsuitable for a young lady. But I'd love to see one of your plays."

"Then you shall see a play tonight, and it'll be one of mine: _The Siege of Malta_."

"I love that play. Why I know it by heart." A sad look crossed Kate's lovely face." But where shall I stay until then?"

"You can stay with Old Mary, the seamstress. You look awfully tired and Mary has a cot in her room. It's right here in the theater. I'll take you there. And you can clean up."

"How can I ever thank you. Mr. Castle."

"Please call me Rick and you can thank me by applauding the loudest tonight."

Once Kate was settled in, Castle went back to his desk. He began thinking about a beautiful woman pursued by a vengeful man. As he thought, he picked up a pen and wrote at the top of the paper,

 _Helen of Troy_

 _By_

 _Richard Castle_

 ** _Greek Chorus_** _: Woe is poor Helen, wife of King Menelaus of Sparta, for the King is a Spartan to the core. He is bold, determined and brave, but considers his wife to be but chattel._

Castle kept writing as if in a daze for several hours. When he was finally done, he looked up to see Roy Montgomery standing before him.

"Are you done? Do you have a new play for us?" He asked with a broad smile.

"I'll have to go over it, tighten some scenes, do a bit of work on some of the speeches, but it's ninety percent done."

"What's it about?"

"It's called _Helen of Troy_ , and it's…"

"Helen of Troy? The lead character is a woman?"

"Obviously."

Roy sighed. "We may have a problem. Tommy Demming is back from his parents' farm in Kent."

"Excellent!" Castle said. "He's perfect for the part of Helen."

"Come and take a look at him now." Roy said sadly.

Tommy Demming who had left some months earlier for his parents' farm as a slender, apple cheeked young lad with a pleasing high voice had returned a bulky young man with a heavy heard and a deep voice.

"He'll never play a woman again." Castle said sadly.

"But we need someone to play Dona Beatriz in the _Siege of Malta_!" Montgomery cried. "And we need one now! The play is due on in two hours."

"Get young Sorenson." Castle replied.

"He's over at the Rooster and Hen and so drunk he won't be sober until he has grey hair!"

"The Davidson boy, then. He's an awful actor, but he makes a fine woman."

"He's with….You know who." Montgomery said quietly.

"Oh." The young lad was with a noblewoman whose husband was doing the Queen's work in Portugal. The lad was taking the husband's place in more ways than one.

"I can play the part." A new voice announced.

"Who are you?" Demanded Montgomery.

"I'm Kate Beckett. I'm a… friend of Richard's."

"You're a woman?" Montgomery said, scandalized. "We can't have women in the theater. It's unheard of."

"Do you have another option right now?" Kate asked reasonably.

"How will you learn the part in two hours?"

"I already know the play by heart. Test me."

Montgomery lowered his voice to portray Selim the Grim, the besieger of Malta. "I see, Dona Beatriz, that you come before me dressed in white, the color of surrender."

Kate replied at once. "I come before you dressed inn white as the color of purity, to show you that my heart and purpose are pure."

Hoping to trick her, Montgomery moved to the next act and spoke the part of Don Renaldo, Beatriz's husband. "We are doomed, dear Beatriz, for all of Christendom has abandoned us. Neither Castile, Aragon, Venice, Genoa or France has sent us aid. We shall die here."

Kate reacted immediately. "Dear Renaldo, as long as we have each other, and faith that there will be a better tomorrow, we can never be truly defeated."

Montgomery tried speaking Beatriz's lines and asking her to do Selim's or Renaldo's or even the lines of the unnamed young soldier in Act Three. Kate knew them all.

"Roy, "Castle said, "people are already buying tickets. Do you remember the riot the last time we had to cancel a play that people had already paid for? We have to let Kate act."

"Get her into costume now." Roy barked.

Castle was nervous when Kate stepped out on stage alone at the start of the first act. She stood there staring at the audience until their anticipation was just about to turn to anger and disappointment. Then she spoke at exactly the right moment. "Dear people of London. I am Dona Beatriz de Castillo, and tonight we bring you the tale of the siege of Malta by the Turk."

From then on, the play continued seamlessly and Castle could see that Kate was holding the audience in the palm of her hand. She was a natural actress. When the play ended with the relief of Malta, the audience cheered and Kate and the whole company were cheered when they came out to take their bows.

As soon as Kate returned to the tiring house backstage, Castle grabbed her and hugged her. After just a brief hesitation, she hugged him back.

"My God! You were magnificent! I had no idea you were such a great actor."

"Neither did I." Kate replied, blushing.

The other actors gathered around the two, congratulating Kate and Richard.

"I admit I was not in favor of this and thought it would be a disaster. "Roy Montgomery said." But Kate is now a member of our company."

Everyone cheered, but then the cheering stopped as a new group approached. Entering the tiring house were two of the best playwrights in all of England, William Shakespeare and Christopher Marlow. Behind them were the two most important owners of the Globe Theater, Richard and Cuthbert Burbage, and behind them were actors and playwrights from all over London. Their faces were all very serious.

Kate slipped her arm around Castle and held on tight.

Shakespeare stepped forth and spoke solemnly. "Richard, rumors have been circulating for hours that you have chosen to ignore the traditions and mores of the London stage and have a woman trod the boards for the first time. We were astounded and shocked to find….A lady and not just a woman!"

Shakespeare bowed before Kate. "Miss Beckett, this night you have changed the theater for the better. You are an amazing actor. I can only hope that we'll see you perform again, and soon?"

"Will, I have written a new play for Kate entitled _Helen of Troy_ , but in the meantime, she'll be performing here."

"We have good wine and beer here as well as food." Roy Montgomery spoke. "Will you join us?"

Christopher Marlow stepped forward. "For tonight, we shall attend the Wild Goose Inn and feast on their very best. Come my friends."

As they left the Oblate Spheroid theater, Kate kept her arm around Richard. For the time she was happy, but during the performance she had caught sight of Sir William Bracken in the audience. Their eyes had met and the look he gave her chilled her very soul.

The End, For Now.

 **Author's note: I'm getting close to being done with The Girl I Left behind Me, a story set some months after the end of season eight.**


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